My 'Shannon'
by MDDC26
Summary: An AU ending tag to 'Devil's Triangle.' Because she doesn't call him Jethro. Re-posted with rating change.
1. Chapter One

**Summary: **An AU ending tag to 'Devil's Triangle.' Because she doesn't call him Jethro.

**Author's Note:** This first chapter is the [somewhat] family friendly version. Smut-lite if you will. Chapter two will be the more adult ending. Choose wisely [Read both]! 

* * *

'But the only woman you'll ever love is Shannon. You were my Shannon, Leroy.' Diane said, placing the pocket watch in his hands before walking away.

Gibbs watched in stunned silence as she left him with that revelation.

"Damn it Diane," he growled softly, as he shook himself out of his stunned reverie. He placed the pocket watch carefully on the bench and raced up the steps of his beloved basement, reaching the ground floor just as she grasped the handle of his front door.

"You can't spring that on me and then expect to leave," he said coming up behind her and firmly shutting the door, his hand closing on hers. Diane rested her forehead on the glass and pressed herself against the door, shrinking away from his unexpected closeness.

"I didn't think you would let me," she murmured. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him, leaving her hand resting loosely in his.

"What do you want from me Leroy?" she asked, looking into his baby blues. She could feel his breath tickling her face as he scrutinised her. Warmth radiated from him and it took everything in her not to pull him closer and lose herself in his heady scent of bourbon and sawdust.

"I don't know. I…" He trailed off, his eyes drawing down her sharp cheekbones and coming to rest on her painted lips, he let out a throaty laugh. Before she could register, he captured her lips in a kiss that left her drowning in sensation.

She threw caution to the wind, and drew him closer. Tugging him forward by the belt loops on his jeans, until his solid warmth pressed against her, and she had trouble remembering how to breathe. He pulled away, and she followed, until the back of his knees hit the sofa and he stumbled onto it.

She pulled her skirt to mid thigh and climbed onto his lap. She rested there, leaning her forehead against his. She felt giddier than a schoolgirl on prom night, his hands resting just above her ass.

She brought her hands to his face, her thumbs brushing the barely there stubble on his cheeks. She kissed him lightly, pulling back playfully every time he drew her closer. He growled in frustration, but she laughed in response.

Finally deciding enough was enough; he moved his right hand and pulled her blouse out of her skirt, sliding his hand to rest on her bare back, just below her bra. His other hand made its way up her skirt and rested on her upper thigh, his thumb tracing circles in the soft skin. Her breath hitched, and suddenly it was far too hot in his sparse living room.

'If we do this," he growled, "you can't take it back."

She realised he was giving her an out, an opportunity to turn back from where ever this may lead them. To go back to safety and normalcy - to Victor. Her heart sank. Victor. He sensed her uncertainty, and stopped his movements.

"Victor," she whispered, "Shit, Leroy."

She drew herself up and off his lap suddenly and adjusted her skirt.

"I… I can't."

She only spared him the most fleeting of backwards glances and she fled. He received a text later, when he had dragged himself back downstairs, and poured himself several shots of bourbon - relishing the cool of the basement against his too hot skin, and the burn of the bourbon down his throat.

_I'm sorry._


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note:** Part the second. Alternate ending.

* * *

'But the only woman you'll ever love is Shannon. You were my Shannon, Leroy.' Diane said, placing the pocket watch in his hands before walking away.

Gibbs watched in stunned silence as she left him with that revelation.

"Damn it Diane," he growled softly, as he shook himself out of his stunned reverie. He placed the pocket watch carefully on the bench and raced up the steps of his beloved basement, reaching the ground floor just as she grasped the handle of his front door.

"You can't spring that on me and then expect to leave," he said coming up behind her and firmly shutting the door, his hand closing on hers. Diane rested her forehead on the glass and pressed herself against the door, shrinking away from his unexpected closeness.

"I didn't think you would let me," she murmured. Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him, leaving her hand resting loosely in his.

"What do you want from me Leroy?" she asked, looking into his baby blues. She could feel his breath tickling her face as he scrutinised her. Warmth radiated from him and it took everything in her not to pull him closer and lose herself in his heady scent of bourbon and sawdust.

"I don't know. I…" He trailed off, his eyes drawing down her sharp cheekbones and coming to rest on her painted lips, he let out a throaty laugh. Before she could register, he captured her lips in a kiss that left her drowning in sensation.

She threw caution to the wind, and drew him closer. Tugging him forward by the belt loops on his jeans, until his solid warmth pressed against her, and she had trouble remembering how to breathe. He pulled away, and she followed, until the back of his knees hit the sofa and he stumbled onto it.

She pulled her skirt to mid thigh and climbed onto his lap. She rested there, leaning her forehead against his. She felt giddier than a schoolgirl on prom night, his hands resting just above her ass.

She brought her hands to his face, her thumbs brushing the barely there stubble on his cheeks. She kissed him lightly, pulling back playfully every time he drew her closer. He growled in frustration, but she laughed in response.

Finally deciding enough was enough; he moved his right hand and pulled her blouse out of her skirt, sliding his hand to rest on her bare back, just below her bra. His other hand made its way up her skirt and rested on her upper thigh, his thumb tracing circles in the soft skin. Her breath hitched, and suddenly it was far too hot in his sparse living room.

'If we do this," he growled, "you can't take it back."

She realised he was giving her an out, an opportunity to turn back from where ever this may lead them. She could go back to Victor and pretend this never happened. He sensed her uncertainty and paused his movements, watching her intently.

She moved back in for a kiss, and suddenly, they couldn't move fast enough, he pulled her down onto the couch and moved so that he supported him torso above her, groin pressing into hers. She whimpered in the back of her throat, and closed her eyes as he moved against her.

"Open your eyes Diane," he murmured close to her mouth, he shifted against her again, and suddenly her eyes were wide open, and she was mesmerised. His face was flushed and his eyes were alight, and for the first time in years, he looked at her with a smile gracing his features. Not his trademark smirk, but a genuine smile.

"Beautiful," he said softly, drinking in the sight of her below him, blouse half unbuttoned, and hair mussed from running his hands through it. He leaned in again and could taste the vanilla on her breathe when he kissed her this time. He could feel the urgency of her hands as she fumbled with his zipper.

He didn't bother with the niceties, pausing only to move the tiny piece of material out of the way before sinking into her. He groaned in sheer relief. Her breath hitched as he began moving inside her, and she moved her hips to meet him. She pulled him down by the drawstrings of his sweater for a kiss, and held him close as she felt the familiar tightening in her. Lights danced in front of her eyes as he collapsed on top of her breathless.

She blew the hair from her face, and drew the back of her hand against his, mimicking the familiar lines and contours. He rested for a moment against her, face tucked into the crook of her neck, breathing in the faintest hint of perfume, before drawing himself to his knees. He stood, adjusting and zipping, before pulling her to her feet.

"Come up with me," he said, not quite asking, as he led her to the stairs. She followed him willingly, taking the steps two at a time to keep up. They reached the door to his bedroom and she hesitated. He felt the slight resistance, and turned to her. He cupped her face with the hand not holding hers and pulled her in again for a kiss. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she breathed heavily into him.

Letting go of her hand, he opened the door with the hand behind him and drew her in, never breaking the kiss. There was only the briefest of pauses at the door, one last nod to her conscience before she surrendered to him, her 'Shannon.'


End file.
